


Anything is Possible

by kiss_me_cassie



Category: Marvel, Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern: No Powers, Alternate Universe - Neighbors, Community: be_compromised, Developing Relationship, F/M, First Meetings, Fluff, Friendship, IKEA Furniture, Meet-Cute, Minor Other Avengers - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-19
Updated: 2017-08-19
Packaged: 2018-12-17 11:37:53
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,593
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11850780
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kiss_me_cassie/pseuds/kiss_me_cassie
Summary: it's 3 a.m. and Natasha is struggling to assemble an IKEA bed. Clint is woken up by her loud cursing and now they're in it together, both figuratively AND literally.





	Anything is Possible

**Author's Note:**

> For HelishDreams and the 2017 be_compromised promptathon.
> 
> There's a lot of IKEA floating around this promptathon, isn't there? But IKEA won't be denied! Now excuse me, I need to figure out how to get lingonberries, meatballs, and cinnamon buns from several states away…
> 
> Thanks to @paperairplanesopenwindows for the read through and quick error spotting (any remaining ones are mine).

Natasha cursed and stared helplessly at the foreign instruction sheet in front of her. Fluent in seven languages, fairly proficient in another four, and yet she still couldn't figure out a lick of what this Swedish brochure said.

She was about to give up and just make a haphazard bed on the floor, when someone started pounding on her door.

A quick glance at her phone showed it was well after midnight and she cursed again. She'd probably been making so much noise that she'd woken a neighbor.

"I'm sorry! I'm sorry!" she called as she extracted herself from the stacks of random wood, cardboard, and plastic wrap that surround her and made her way to the door. She yanked it open, not even caring who might be on the other side. If it was a serial killer, maybe they could put her out of her misery. "I'm… "

Maybe the tall, sandy-haired hunk of a man in front of her was a serial killer, but he was also the best looking thing she had seen since moving to this godforsaken city. Even in a ratty t-shirt and too-big pajama pants. 

"... Sorry?"

"You should be," he complained groggily. "I have an early thing tomorrow and all the banging and cursing over here is keeping me awake."

She bit her lip. Apologize -- again -- or yank him into her apartment and beg for help? She didn't like admitting she needed the help, but she was clearly out of her element and she really needed to figure this out so she could get some sleep.

"Do you know how to build furniture?" she blurted.

He blinked and scrubbed a hand over his hair and down his face. "Am I being pranked? Did Kate put you up to this?"

"I don't know who Kate is, so no," she said, her previous optimism faltering. 

_Who was Kate_? she wondered briefly, before realizing belatedly that she must be a girlfriend. She had to be. Guys like him always had a girlfriend. No one this gorgeous was ever single. On the other hand, she was still without a bed and he was _here_ , so who cared? She was beyond dignity at this point.

"My question still stands. Do you know how to build furniture?"

He shuffled into her apartment and looked at the mess on her floor, before glancing over at her with a tired smile. "Who talked you into IKEA?"

"This woman in one of my classes suggested IKEA because of my limited budget. She said it'd be easy to deal with and the Uber guy thought I'd be fine."

"Yeah, because Uber guys are always honest." He looked over the pieces she had laid out already and crouched down next to them. "I'm willing to give it a shot if it means I can get some sleep tonight."

"Thank you! You have no idea how much I appreciate this." She paused and shuffled her feet. "I'm really sorry I kept you up. I didn't realize I was making so much noise."

"Thin walls. And If it wasn't you, it would have been something else. Me and insomnia go way back." He looked hopefully over at her kitchenette. "I don't supposed you have any coffee or a coffeemaker in there, do you?"

She shook her head. "No, sorry. I'm more of a tea drinker."

He sighed, but then cracked his knuckles and picked up the instructions. "Might as well get started then. A bed, huh?"

She sighed. "My last apartment in Columbus was rented fully furnished, but I can't afford anything like that here. I managed to nab a few necessities like chairs and a table from people at the university, but a bed was harder to come by."

And that's when it hit her that she had asked this stranger -- this incredibly attractive, super nice stranger -- to assemble a bed for her. A bed.

"You know what?" she said, her words coming out in another uncharacteristic rush. "I can just make up something on the floor for tonight and then tackle this in the morning. That way you can get back to your apartment and I --"

"Nope. No can do. Kate will find out if I let you sleep on the floor -- and trust me, she will find out, she always finds out somehow -- and then I'll never hear the end of it," he said, picking up two of the pieces of wood along with the weird little widget that had been taped to them and getting to work.

Her heart sank a little at the mention of Kate again. Not because she was looking to start a relationship right now, but because in her experience, girlfriends of men that looked like him were never really keen on them having any girl friends. And she could really use a friend right now. 

She twisted a lock of hair around her finger nervously. "She's not going to be pissed you helped a strange woman build a bed in the middle of the night, is she?"

He snorted. "Kate? No way. Besides, even if she was, America would give her an earful about it, because America always finds out about everything, too."

She must have looked confused because he stopped what he was doing and frowned. "Sorry, I don't usually babble about my friends this way. Blame the lack of sleep."

"They sound like very nice friends," she ventured, not quite sure what the proper response was in this kind of situation.

"They're pains in my --" He cut off mid sentence. "They're fine, if a little too involved in my life. Or lack thereof."

She forced a happy expression onto her face. Even though it felt patently false to her, it must have passed muster with him because he didn't say a word, just kept working on her bed. 

Taking a seat next to him on the floor, she gestured to the parts around them. "What can I do to help?"

He gestured to a short length of flat wood a few feet away. "Can you hand that over here?"

"Sure."

He smiled and she felt herself flush warmly.

God, she really was a pathetic mess, wasn't she, if something a simple as a friendly smile was having this kind of effect on her. He was a complete stranger. She didn't know anything about him except that he lived in this building and he apparently had a girlfriend. It was really a pretty sad state of affairs that she felt so isolated she was letting the smallest gesture of kindness get to her.

"I'm Natasha, by the way," she said, passing him another flat piece of bed.

He glanced up and smiled at her again. "Clint."

She fiddled with a screwdriver, wondering what came next. She thought by this age she'd have mastered the skill of making friends. But she'd never been any good at it, even as a child. And as an adult, her job as a translator and frequent travels had made things even worse. 

_Hey, I'm lonely, and even though it's kind of disappointing you have a girlfriend, can I adopt you and her and any of your friends as my own_? seemed kind of desperate. 

Maybe she should start with something simple, like asking about Kate. Generally, people liked talking about their partners, right?. 

"How did I manage to keep you awake but not Kate?" she finally asked. 

Clint paused and looked up at her with a mildly amused expression. "Well, since Kate lives on the other side of town, that'd be a little hard."

"Oh." 

She couldn't tell if she was more disappointed or relieved to learn the mysterious Kate didn't live with him. And oh, God, could she be any more pathetic? 

She had to get a grip.

Clint suddenly stopped what he was doing and looked over at her. "Wait… did you think she lived with me? That we were… Sorry. I probably should have explained earlier. Katie's my best friend."

She blushed. And really, what more was there to say? 

She felt like the biggest idiot on the planet. First. because she'd just assumed Kate was a girlfriend. And second, because even if Kate had been, did she really think she was owed any explanation from this guy -- this incredibly nice, good looking guy who was assembling her bed for her in the middle of the night?

She pulled her knees up to her chest and looked down at the chipped red nail polish on her toenails.

"At least I didn't keep two people up tonight," she said, trying to be optimistic.

"That we know of. Like I said, thin walls." He must have noticed the horrified expression that crossed her face because he was quick to reassure her. "We're the only two on this floor, so it isn't likely. How'd you wind up here, anyhow?"

"Here, as in this apartment building, or here, as in the greater sense of the world?" she asked. Because if it was the former, it had merely been a matter of budget; if it was the latter, well, that was a little more complicated.

"The second one,"

Great. She took a deep breath and gave him the condensed version.

"I grew up in Russia and things were… well, let's just say less than ideal. I worked hard in school and got out as soon as I could. Then I moved around a lot. Most of the places I lived were already furnished. And the ones that weren't most definitely did not include assembling a bed with one of... these things," she said, blowing an errant curl out of her face and making a face at the widget in his hand.

"Allen Wrench," he supplied, giving a final twist to the one he held. "Russia, huh? You don't sound Russian."

"Thanks to a lot of work," she said. "It helps that I'm a professional translator and linguistics specialist. Gives me lots of opportunities to practice other languages and accents."

He stopped, a strange expression on his face, and signed to her, _Do you know sign language_?

With a small laugh, she awkwardly signed back, _A little_.

"Not bad," he said, reaching over and grasping her hand to show her the correct shape of the word. "But the placement of your pinky needs a little work."

It was the first time he had touched her, and a little shockwave of pleasure ran through her. She stilled immediately and he retracted his hand, embarrassed. 

"Sorry," he mumbled, looking down at the bed again.

She stared at him, aghast.

"No! No, I… Oh, God, this is embarrassing, but when you touched me…" Her cheeks pinked up and she ducked her head. "Nevermind."

"Archery tends to rough up your fingers quite a bit," he apologized. "Jess hated it."

"I don't know who Jess is, but she's an idiot," she blurted without thinking. Her hand flew to her mouth in embarrassment and her blush got even deeper. "Oh my God, I'm sorry. Clearly she's a friend of yours and I don't know anything about her so I definitely shouldn't be making any judgement calls and I already made all kinds of assumptions about Kate so… I'm going to shut up now."

Clint looked at her curiously. "Do you always get flustered so easily?"

She sighed and smiled, just the slightest. "No. You seem to have a particular talent for bringing it out in me."

"Yeah?"

"Yes. I'm usually the very opposite of flustered. A few of my exes have even called me the Black Widow, because I have a tendency to bring men to their knees, and not in a good way."

"They're idiots," he said quietly, and she snuck a glance at him from beneath her lashes. He was still staring at her with that curious look and she didn't know what to make of it. All she knew was that it was making her feel warm and even more flustered.

He looked away and cleared his throat. "So, um, I think the bed's all done."

"It is?" she asked stupidly, blinking. Of course it was; she could see it right there for herself. With a little cough, she quickly asked, "Can help me lug the mattress on?"

They unrolled it from it's plastic wrap and maneuvered it into place, carefully avoiding touching one another while they did it.

"You have any sheets?" Clint asked

"Yup." She pulled some from the closet and quickly and efficiently made up the bed. "And now… pillows."

He suddenly looked a little scared. "You aren't one of those girls who likes mounds and mounds of frou-frou pillows are you?"

"I admit to multiple pillows, but they're all fully functional," she said with a laugh, pulling at least four from the top of the closet. "Are you a fluffy feather pillow type or more of a firm neck support guy?"

"There're different kinds?"

She rolled her eyes and tossed all four pillows towards the top of the bed. "Help me test it out?"

He looked a little hesitant. "You sure?"

She wasn't sure at all. 

She wished she could say it was the loneliness that had prompted her to make the offer, but she knew it wasn't. It was Clint himself. She liked him. He was nice and funny and kind and she didn't want him to go. It was that simple.

He was still waiting for an answer, though, so she mustered up a dazzling smile. "Well, you did do the majority of the building, so it's the least I can offer in thanks."

He lay down on his back with his hands clasped over his chest, a satisfied sighing escaping his lips as he settled into the mattress. "I am never leaving this bed."

"Never?" she asked with a little smirk, climbing up on the opposite side from him. The bed was soft and cozy and felt really good. No wonder he didn't ever want to leave.

He grinned at her. "See? Now you know why you're stuck with me."

They lapsed into a comfortable silence then, laying quietly side by side with only the sounds of their quiet breathing filling the room. It was all strangely intimate and comforting, and Natasha couldn't remember the last time she'd felt so relaxed or at peace, like she'd finally found the place she belonged. 

Which was crazy, of course. Tonight didn't really mean anything. But she didn't want to give up this feeling, not yet. 

She shifted, turning onto her side to face him.

"Tell me about the other people who live here," she said..

He turned his head to look at her, eyebrows raised. "Here? In this building?"

"Mmhmm. You're apparently the resident night owl and I'm the hopeless newbie. Who else lives here?"

He shifted a little, getting more comfortable as he turned onto his side to face her.

"Well, there's Sam Wilson and Steve Rogers. Both of 'em are veterans. Rogers is an art teacher now, and Wilson works with other vets down at the VA. And occasionally you'll see their friend Bucky around, although he doesn't officially live here. I don't know what his deal is, except he's also a veteran. I gather his last stint in Afghanistan didn't end well. He's kind of a quiet and broody type, keeps mostly to himself when he's not with Rogers, but he's a good dart player and generally a good guy so far as I can tell."

They sounded like quite a trio. She couldn't wait to meet them. "Who else?"

"Then there's the Maximoff twins, Wanda and Pietro. You might like them. They're from Sokovia originally. Pietro is a bit of a running nut and Wanda's an amazing cook. Sometimes she'll make big batches of paprikash to share with everyone in the building."

"I love paprikash," she said.

"I'll take you down to meet her sometime," he offered. Then he frowned. "I mean, if you want me to? You don't have to."

She tried to tamp down the little thrill of excitement she felt at his offer. It was nothing more than and simple invitation to introduce her to some other people. Still, it felt nice that he'd offered.

"I think I'd like that."

His shoulders relaxed a little and she suddenly realized maybe he was a little nervous here with her, too.

"Tell me about the rest of the people," she coaxed.

"Well, there's also Scott and his daughter, Cassie, but she's not here all the time. Scott and her mom share custody and Scott only gets her a couple weekends a month. But you'll know when she's here. She loves to run up and down the hallways, playing superhero. Sometimes Pietro will let her ride on his back so she can pretend she's flying."

They all sounded like an amazing bunch and for a brief moment she indulged in the fantasy of making some real friends. 

Then she stopped herself. Why _couldn't_ she be real friends with them? What was stopping her? For once, absolutely nothing stood in her way but her own insecurities.

She looked at Clint. "And you? Beside being resident nightowl, how do you fit in?"

His forehead furrowed. "I um, well, I live here?"

"All I know about you so far is that you're willing to help strange women in the middle of the night, have a best friend named Kate, and know sign language." She paused and tilted her head curiously at him. "Why do you know sign language anyway?"

He turned his head and pointed to the tiny, almost invisible purple device in his ear. "Accident when I was a kid."

She wasn't sure what to say to that. He didn't seem the kind to want sympathy. So instead, she screwed up her courage and signed, _Will you help me brush up on my ASL_? 

He laughed. "We really need to work on your fingering." 

"Maybe I'll get better at it if I have someone to practice with more often," she said and then blushed when she realized exactly how that sounded. "I didn't mean… That is...."

"I know exactly what you meant," he assured her with a smile. "And I think I'd like that."

"So now I know about the sign language. Tell me one more thing," she said. "Just one."

"Just one?"

"Yes."

He was quiet for so long, she started to doze and she almost missed when he sheepishly admitted, "I kind of own the building."

She was immediately wide awake. " _You're_ C.F. Barton?"

"Yeah."

She flopped back onto the bed, covering her face with her hands. "Oh my God. My first night here and not only do I wake up my landlord, I also unknowingly recruit him to help me build furniture."

"Hey, if it makes any difference, I actually had a good time tonight. Beat staring at the ceiling in my own apartment." 

He peeled her hands away so he could see her face and that little zip of electricity pinged between them again. 

For half a second, she thought he might kiss her. She really, really hoped he would kiss her. He even leaned in a little bit, as if he was going to, but then he reluctantly moved away. 

"I should go," he said quietly as he sat up.

She almost stopped him, but she knew he was right. Whatever that zip had been, the middle of the night in her apartment when they were both feeling tired and vulnerable was neither the time nor the place to explore it.

"Probably," she agreed.

"But we're neighbors now, so we'll see each other around a lot. Besides, I have to introduce you to Kate and Wanda."

She scrunched up her nose, suddenly feeling far too vulnerable again. "Do you think they'll like me?"

"Well, I like you, so how could they not?" he asked.

He liked her! Just hearing him say it out loud made her stomach do little flip-flops. 

"I like you, too," she said softly.

He leaned over and kissed her lightly on the forehead. It wasn't the same as a kiss to the lips, but it still made her feel all warm and fuzzy again.

"Goodnight, Natasha."

"Goodnight, Clint."

 

_A little over a year later…_

"I can't believe you talked us into moving this bed, Barton," Kate complained. "Why can't you just use the bed that's already in your apartment? It's not like this one is a valuable heirloom or anything."

"It's the bed that brought me and Natasha together. We're keeping it," Clint said as he tilted it a little to the left to get it through the doorway.

"Where is she anyhow?" Sam asked from the other side as they carried it down the hallway. "Shouldn't she be helping us move all her stuff?"

"It's her first official day at SHIELD. I wanted to surprise her by having it all moved by the time she got home."

Sam grinned. "Never thought I'd see the day you'd be living with a woman. Especially not one as fine as Natasha."

"Yeah, well, Natasha's different."

"Apparently," Kate said. "She did agree to move in with you after all." 

"Hah. Funny. You're a regular laugh riot, Katie-Kate."

She stuck her tongue out at hm. "America thinks so."

They managed to get the bed into Clint's place with minimal trouble and Kate collapsed on top of it as soon as they set it down. 

"Oooh! This is nice," she said. "No wonder you wanted to keep it. Where'd Nat get it again?"

Clint laughed. "IKEA, where anything is possible."


End file.
